In Confidence
by Amailia
Summary: Ryder (F) and SAM have a conversation. SAM is… interesting. Just exploring that a little bit :-) Main story SPOILERS up to about… maybe 50%?


With a soft hiss, the door to Ryder's quarters slid shut behind her. She ran her hand over the lock and the blue glow faded to red. The amber rays of a nearby star bathed her room in glaring light.

"Dim to fifty."

The room's VI obeyed, and a transparent film shimmered across the windows, dimming the harsh light. Ryder headed straight for the bed, dropping face-first onto it. She breathed in the clean scent of the sheets and enjoyed the comfort of the soft mattress as the anxiety began to seep out of her sore muscles.

"SAM?" she mumbled into the covers.

"Yes, Pathfinder?" the AI's calm voice seeped through, directly into the back of her head. No auditory processing required. Their very own, private "comm channel". Even after months, she still wasn't used to it.

"Do you know why everyone's upset?" she asked.

"I believe so, Pathfinder." If an AI could sound cautious, SAM would have just demonstrated it aptly.

"Why?" she prompted.

"Because I stopped your heart on the Archon's ship."

"Yeah. They think you killed me."

"I did kill you, Pathfinder."

She sighed. "I know." She turned over onto her back to stare up at the grey ceiling. "Can I tell you something, SAM? In confidence?"

"Of course, Pathfinder."

"Do you know what that means? In confidence?"

"A matter not to be divulged or communicated to others," he recited, as if he'd just looked it up in the dictionary. "To be kept secret. A private matter between individuals."

She nodded her appeasement. "When you made the suggestion to stop my heart, I hesitated."

"Yes, Pathfinder."

"I didn't actually hesitate."

"What do you mean?"

"I paused, but only because I thought I should want to pause."

"That makes very little sense, Pathfinder."

"I thought… well, I thought the guys would expect me to hesitate."

"Mr. Ama Darav and Mr. Drack?"

"Yeah. Like if I accepted too quickly they'd…" She shook her head. "I don't know. So I pretended to be reluctant. I lied."

SAM was silent for a long time, but eventually he said quietly, "I know."

She tilted her head. "You know?"

"Yes, Pathfinder. Your vitals at the time — though elevated due to extreme stress — fluctuated in a way which indicated a modulated reaction."

"Modulated?"

"Affected. False."

She loosened her hair tie and pulled it free, then raked her fingers across her scalp. "So, can you always tell if I'm lying?"

"Only if I analyze your vitals."

"When do you analyze my vitals?"

"Only when you are in a life or death situation."

She scoffed a laugh. "So, in short, always."

"You laughed, Pathfinder. Is that humorous?"

"No. Just ironic."

"Irony is a form of humor."

"Sort of. Please don't catalogue that, SAM. Your humor is painful enough as-is."

"To be clear, Pathfinder — you do not mean my humor causes you physical pain, correct?"

"Oh no, I most certainly do mean that."

SAM was quite for a beat then said, "Sarcasm?"

"Yes."

"Understood, Pathfinder."

She stretched her arms up toward the headboard and a heavy yawn escaped her lips. Her eyes drifted shut before SAM spoke up again.

"Pathfinder?"

"Yeah?"

"May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"It may help me to better construct my social interaction lattices—"

"Yeah, it's fine. I said yes."

"Why, precisely, did you pretend to hesitate?"

She let out a long sigh before responding. "Because I knew they wouldn't understand. And I thought they'd judge me."

"Judge you for what?"

"For agreeing too quickly. For trusting you too much."

"You do not believe they trust me?"

"No, they do. In a way. They just… they don't know you like I know you. It scared them. They were afraid you might not bring me back."

"I would never hurt you, Pathfinder."

"I know that, SAM."

"But they do not know that?"

"They may know it. But… that doesn't mean they believe it."

"I do not fully understand the difference."

She pressed herself deeper into the soft mattress and shook her head slowly. "Yeah, it's… complicated."

"Pathfinder, I would like to better understand, so I can aid you in the highest capacity possible. Are you willing to elaborate?"

She ran a hand down her face and sighed. "Trust has to be… earned. Discovered. Shared. My teammates can hear you, they can talk to you, but… it's different. They can't sense you like I can, and you can't sense them like you can sense me, and it's just… different. They can only know you with me as a filter."

"You are under the impression they do not trust you?"

She shook her head. "No, I didn't say that. I think they trust me."

"But if you are a filter between myself and your teammates, and they trust you implicitly, and you trust me implicitly, it follows they should trust me implicitly."

She closed her eyes. "Yeah. That would be logical, wouldn't it? But it's not how it works, unfortunately."

"I see. May I share my conclusion with you before final processing?"

"Sure."

"You and I share an unrestricted cerebral connection which grants us the exchange of a trust currency. You and your teammates share a corporeal connection, fueled by intangible forces such as emotion, respect, and like-beliefs. These social forces in combination with high-stress, high-stakes environments and circumstances, result in an exchange of trust currency. Because your teammates and I have no direct connection across which to exchange trust currency, we are unable to develop similar bonds."

She clamped her eyes shut tighter as her heart thudded loudly in her chest.

"Are you alright, Pathfinder?"

"Yes, SAM. Sorry." She ran her fingers across her scalp and sighed heavily. "You're right. You're… exactly right."

"Pathfinder?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you feel you needed to share with me that you did not hesitate?"

"I… I don't know. I guess it just felt important that you knew."

"Because you want me to… believe that you trust me? Even though I already know it?"

She smiled. "Yeah."

"I shall encrypt the record of our exchange, Pathfinder," he said. "In confidence."


End file.
